


Demons Within and Without

by synaesthesia_mnemonic



Category: Onmyouji | The Yin-Yang Master (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Battle, Demons, Family Drama, Fear of Death, Hurt/Comfort, Kitsune, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:24:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synaesthesia_mnemonic/pseuds/synaesthesia_mnemonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seimei's greatest fears are converging on him all at once. Hiromasa is determined to help him, but he is part of the problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blood

The farmer's wife and children wept silently as Seimei performed the rite that would ensure the spirit of their husband and father made it safely to the afterlife. Normally such a thing was accomplished by cremation, but in this case there had not been enough left to burn. There were only splashes of gore and putrid fluids and blood... so much blood. When the ritual was finished Seimei sat silently, his heart pounding in his chest and his mouth dry.

He had seen this before, long and long ago. He had been but a small boy, and it had been his own father that was torn asunder and devoured while he watched, helpless, hiding in fox form behind a wooden chest. There had been blood everywhere that day, too, on the floor and the walls and the ceiling. And on him, soaking his soft white baby fur. He would never forget that even when he changed back to human form the blood had stayed with him, coating his hair and his skin and his clothes like thick red ink. It had felt like it took years to wash it all away.

A powerful oni had murdered his father that day, and he was certain an oni had killed this poor farmer, as well. The farmer's wife had tearfully asked him why, and he could only shake his head. Oni sometimes did such things, and there was little rhyme or reason to it. Despite the power and reputation of his mother, an oni had slaughtered her lover Abe no Yasuna as if he were a rabbit in a trap. There was no thought or planning in their actions, only brutality and ravenous hunger.

Sometimes oni would kill like this and disappear back to wherever they had come from, but other times they would get used to the easy prey that humans were and stay, killing one innocent after another until an entire village had been emptied. The thought sickened him. He could not allow this to happen to yet another family.

The oni that had killed Seimei's father had not lived through the night. His mother, nearly mad with grief and rage, had found and killed it mere hours after she had returned to find Yasuna dead and her still toddling son curled up and sobbing in what was left of her lover's robes. He closed his eyes against the memories. Nearly a century later, he still had nightmares if he dwelled on them for too long. He had been so _helpless_.

“Seimei-sama?” came a soft voice behind him. He turned. The farmer's wife was remarkably composed, though her eyes were still red, and her son and daughter were still crying, albeit as quietly as possible.

“Your husband will be welcomed in the afterlife,” he said, and she nodded her thanks.

“We don't have much, but we can give you a tithe of rice until the debt is repaid,” she said. He held up his hand.

“That will not be necessary. Your lot, and that of your children, will be hard enough.” Her eyes widened for a moment, and then she put her hand to her mouth as she started to cry again.

“Oh, thank you, my lord,” she said between sobs. “Thank you. You cannot know what this means to us.”

“I have some idea. May you find peace,” he said, and left them with their loss.

 


	2. Fear

“You are not coming with me this time,” Seimei said in a tone that brooked no argument. Hiromasa looked up from adjusting the strap on his quiver.

“What?”

“You are not coming with me. It is too dangerous,” he said. Hiromasa frowned at him.

“That is why I am coming with you, Seimei. The last time I didn't you were killed!” he said, stepping forward. “I mean, you came back, we both seem to have a habit of that, but I don't want to take any chances on it happening again!”

“I cannot allow you to-”

“Allow me? Seimei, I know you are a lot older than me, though you'll never say by how much, but just because you are doesn't mean you can treat me like a child. I'm coming with you, and I will help in any way I can, and I will protect you with all of my strength,” he said.

Seimei looked at him for a long moment as he wrestled his emotions back under control. The thought of an oni getting a hold of Hiromasa was making him physically ill.

“Hiromasa,” he said, his voice low and calm, “This is not just another case of humans causing problems for each other or a haunted house. I have every reason to believe there is an actual oni loose in the village,” he said. _I could practically smell the cursed thing_ , he thought.

“Which is why I'm coming with you. Should I just let you face something like that yourself? And Seimei, if you freeze me like you did before the battle with Genkaku I will never forgive you,” he said sternly. Seimei looked away.

“If something happened to you I could never forgive myself,” he said. Hiromasa closed the last of the distance between them and took Seimei's chin in one hand, as he so often did when they made love. The gesture made Seimei's stomach flop.

“I feel the same way, Seimei, so like it or not it looks like we are both going.”

“You have never faced anything like this before, Hiromasa.”

“Have you?” asked the younger man, letting go of his chin and fixing him with a stubborn glare.

“Yes, many times. And I do not need the distraction of protecting you while I face this one,” he said. That was a lie. As a hanyo, he was usually wise enough to avoid fighting full-blood youkai, but in this instance it couldn't be helped. He had thought briefly of contacting his mother, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. He could not hide behind her power every time something like this appeared. He was not a child anymore.

“Seimei, how can it be worse if there are two of us? How do you plan to fight it by yourself, anyway? If nothing else I can shoot at it from far away while you trap it and do... whatever it is you do with an oni once you trap it,” Hiromasa said. Seimei looked at him appraisingly.

“Banish it back to the demon world,” he said. It wasn't a bad idea, but as far as he was concerned one of the palace guards could shoot arrows almost as well as Hiromasa and was a lot more expendable. It would not do to suggest that to Hiromasa, however.

“Yes, while you trap it and banish it. Anyhow, Seimei, you won't talk me out of it.”

Seimei could practically feel the stubbornness radiating off the younger man. He sighed.

“All right. But keep your distance. If this oni bites you, you will not survive it, and they are strong enough to tear a man apart with their bare hands,” he said, shuddering.

“As long as you promise to stay away from it, too,” Hiromasa said, his brow furrowed.

“I have no intention of getting anywhere near it,” he said emphatically.


	3. Sacrifice

The southern forest was dark and foreboding even at the height of day, and Seimei and Hiromasa did not have trouble following the oni's trail. The monster was so large that trampled saplings and broken branches marked its path for most of their journey into the woods. They were temporarily thrown when they came to a clearing, but soon found a huge footprint as long as Seimei's arm in a patch of mud. Hiromasa stared at the track in the mud, his dark eyes wide.

" _That_ is the oni's footprint?" he asked, pointing. Seimei glanced back at him from further down the trail and nodded. He drew in a long breath, allowing himself to _change_ just a little so his fox senses would have some input. Yes, the demon had been here, and as recently at the print in the mud suggested. They were close. 

Hiromasa quickened his pace to catch up with him.

"Seimei, this oni must be very large," he said, keeping his voice low.

"Probably close to twice my height," he replied, and Hiromasa frowned. 

"Will your trap be able to hold him?" the younger man asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana. Seimei looked up at him, his expression fond but mocking. 

"The strength of my trap will only increase the harder he struggles. Surely you understand it isn't like a net or a rope?" Hiromasa snorted. 

"Of course I do," he said, as if he'd been working magic all his life and was offended at the question. Seimei smiled. "But you will be too close for comfort, Seimei. I don't want you getting hurt," he said, and gently touched the small of Seimei's back. The gesture was intimate, far more so than he was used to from Hiromasa outside of the bedchamber. He stopped himself from leaning into it. 

"If things go according to plan, no one will get hurt. Do you remember my instructions?" Hiromasa nodded. 

"Shoot around him, only actually hit him if I have to in order to keep him on the path and contained until you finish your binding spell," he repeated dutifully. 

"And keep your distance." 

"Yes, that too. Seimei, this may seem indelicate, but why don't we just kill him? I mean, he is a monster, is he not?" Seimei gave him a withering look. 

"He is a demon, yes," he said, and Hiromasa frowned. "But Hiromasa, this oni is doing what onis always do. It is terrible for their victims, but if we kill him for acting naturally it will be we who are the monsters, not the oni." Hiromasa appeared to consider that. 

"But you are going to banish him to... to a terrible place!" Seimei favored him with a foxy grin. 

"To the demon world, yes. That is where oni live, among other things," he said. "In any case, whatever prey the oni finds there will at least have a fighting chance." Unlike that poor farmer, he thought. Of course, his mother had slaughtered the oni that killed his father, but even a very stupid oni would have smelled Kuzunoha's scent on Yasuna and known what it meant. For whatever reason it had ignored the warning, and died for its folly. 

"Are we close to him?" asked Hiromasa. Seimei nodded. 

"Yes, and I think this clearing is as good a place as any to set our trap. I'll begin my preparations if you will keep watch," he said. Hiromasa nodded, unshouldered his bow, and began to walk slowly around the edge of the clearing. Seimei set to work.  


  


His heart racing, Seimei began the chant that would bind the oni's left arm. He had already successfully bound both his legs and his right arm. The beast was furious, roaring and struggling against the bonds. Hiromasa had done well, baiting the oni into the clearing and then distracting him with arrows and as Seimei began the first of his five chants. By the time the oni noticed that both his legs were bound there was nothing he could do. Seimei was starting to feel better already. 

Hiromasa was standing on the other side of the clearing, his bow at the ready. His eyes were wide with fear, but he kept his concentration. He had truly done very well. Seimei was proud of him. Most nobles were worse than useless, but Hiromasa- 

The oni took a sudden swipe with his one free arm that came within inches of Seimei's face. Hiromasa ran forward, but Seimei shot him a look as he continued his chant. The oni struggled wildly for a few moments, then collapsed against his invisible bonds, seemingly out of breath. Seimei allowed himself another look at Hiromasa. The young human was too close. He gestured with his chin for him to move back, and Hiromasa began to do so. That was when the oni, previously limp against his bonds, suddenly lunged. 

He backhanded Seimei across the torso with one massive red hand, and the hanyo felt the breath go out of him first at that impact and then the one with the ground seconds later. 

"Seimei!" Despite the pain from the impacts and the dark spots threatening his vision, he looked up sharply. Hiromasa was nocking an arrow, and in one smooth motion he drew back and let loose. The arrow nicked the side of the oni's neck and he flinched and roared as blood began to ooze from the wound. However, he did not immediately lash out. The oni was sagging against his bonds again, waiting for them to loosen a little. _He's smarter than he looks,_ thought Seimei. 

He struggled to his feet and swayed as the black spots in his vision grew, threatening to drag him down into unconsciousness. He bit his tongue and shook his head to clear his vision, just in time to see the oni's hand reaching for him. He stumbled backward but the oni caught him by the shoulder. He tried to slip free, but the oni tightened its grip and began to drag him closer. 

"Seimei, no!" Hiromasa fired another arrow, lightning fast, this one directly at the oni's back. The demon roared in pain as the arrow embedded in its back and released Seimei to claw at the shaft. Seimei fell onto his back and again tried to regain his feet, when suddenly Hiromasa was there, in front of him, his sword drawn. 

"Hiromasa, get out of here!" he shouted, but it was too late. The oni saw Hiromasa, saw his sword, and saw the quiver of arrows strapped to his back. It roared and reached toward Hiromasa. The young human twisted and sliced downward with his sword, managing to sever the oni's little finger. This only enraged the monster more. It latched onto Hiromasa's shoulder with its remaining fingers and dragged him close. In a terrifying show of strength it lifted Hiromasa bodily by his shoulder and sank its teeth into Hiromasa's torso. The young human screamed. The oni drew its head back, preparing for another bite. 

Seimei clambered to his feet and did the only thing he knew to do; he finished the fourth chant. Suddenly the oni froze, completely immobile. It grunted, perplexed, as Hiromasa struggled and fell from fingers that could no longer grip him. Hiromasa hit the ground hard, tried to rise, and fell again onto his stomach. Seimei was at his side instantly. 

"Hiromasa! Look at me!" The young human turned his head and Seimei flinched at the pain etched into his features. 

"Sorry, Seimei," he moaned. "Know what you said, but..." 

"Shush, not now. We have to get you someplace safe. Someplace where I can treat your wounds," he said, even as the knowledge that Hiromasa would not survive his wounds settled like ice around his heart. Oni were not poisonous, exactly, but their bites always went septic. Hiromasa's death would be slow and incredibly painful. He forced that thought aside. He would not give up. People sometimes survived extraordinary things. He would give Hiromasa every chance he could. 

"Can you walk if I help you?" he asked, and Hiromasa nodded. 

"I think so," he said, and drew his legs underneath him. Seimei helped him to his feet as the oni roared in protest. Hiromasa clutched his side and glanced at the oni. "What about him?" 

Seimei eased himself under Hiromasa's arm on his uninjured side and winced as his Hiromasa's weight slumped onto his own bruised ribs. He wrapped his arm around Hiromasa's hips, careful of his injuries, and closed his eyes against a tide of panic when he felt the hot stickiness of blood.

"Give me a moment," he said, and raised two fingers to his mouth to whisper the final incantation. Despite his fear and exhaustion, the spell wove around the oni in translucent ribbons. The monster howled in protest, but was silenced as the last of the ribbons covered his face.

With a final word and gesture from Seimei, he disappeared, and the forest was utterly silent.


	4. Dread

Hiromasa stumbled again, and it was all Seimei could do to keep them both on their feet. Hiromasa was much larger than him, and he was quickly losing the ability to stand under his own power, nevermind walk. Seimei had basically dragged him for the last mile or so, using his magic to clear obstacles in their path.

“Seimei, it hurts,” moaned Hiromasa. Seimei waved his hand and a sapling obligingly bent sideways for them to pass.

“I know. We're almost there,” he said. Hiromasa's entire left side was drenched in blood, as were Seimei's hand and arm where he had been holding him up.

Hiromasa was nearly unconscious and mumbling incoherently by the time they finally cleared the forest. The dirt path ahead sloped gently downward and wound through an expanse of rice fields, still brown and empty before the spring planting. The late farmer's house was situated on a hillock in the middle of them. 

Seimei took a deep breath, flinched at the pain in his ribs, and summoned what strength he had left. He started down the path, Hiromasa's right arm across his shoulders and the bulk of Hiromasa's weight on his back and bruised ribs.

When they reached the house his legs gave out and folded beneath him. He pulled Hiromasa to him and they collapsed together. Hiromasa moaned again and then cried out as the dried blood on his wounds pulled painfully.

“Seimei, please, it hurts so much,” he moaned. Seimei began to struggle to his feet, disentangling himself from Hiromasa as gently as possible. The door to the farmhouse opened, and the farmer's wife rushed to his side.

“Seimei-sama! What has happened?” she asked, helping him up.

“The oni. We banished the oni, but...” he looked at Hiromasa, curled up on the ground bleeding and moaning, and started to collapse again. To his surprise, the farmer's wife caught him. Her hands were strong from years of field work.

“Seimei-sama, your friend needs help. Please come inside. I know only a little medicine, but if my children and I can help you we will,” she said. Seimei looked at her. Her eyes were kind as she steadied him. “Come on. Let's get you both inside.”

He nodded, and together they half-led, half-carried Hiromasa into the house. The farmer's wife called for her children to pull out their futon and lay it on the floor. They did so quickly, their brown eyes wide, and all together they eased Hiromasa onto the straw mattress. Hiromasa's eyes squeezed shut and he hissed in pain as he was laid down. The farmer's wife looked at her children.

“Sasuke, you must go and fetch water. Miko, when your brother brings it back, you must help Mama boil it,” she said. The little boy ran out of the door, grabbing a bucket as he went. Seimei met her eyes.

“My lady, I... I thank you, for this...” he trailed off. The farmer's wife shook her head.

“I am no lady, my lord. My name is Kaede," she said, a small smile on her face. "You took care of my husband's spirit, even though we are only farmers. It is the least I can do to help you save your friend,” she said. Seimei gave her a long look and nodded again in thanks. He started to try to remove Hiromasa's robes, changed his mind, and ripped them open at the seam of the sleeve.

The oni's bite had left a half-dozen deep puncture wounds along the side of Hiromasa's stomach. Seimei gently pulled at the young human's shoulder, encouraging him to roll onto his side. Hiromasa groaned but moved with Seimei's insistent hands. He eased the bloody silks away from Hiromasa's flesh and confirmed what he had feared; the wounds were echoed on his back. They were still oozing blood, and worse, there was a yellow foam around the edges of each wound. Seimei gingerly brushed it with his finger and passed it under his nose. The smell was terrible, sour and sickly. His stomach turned.

Sasuke returned with the bucket of water, and Kaede and her little daughter Miko poured it into a metal pot and set it over the fire. Kaede knelt beside him and offered a pile of rough cloths.

“These are all we have, my lord,” she said. Seimei nodded and looked at her.

“Do you have a knife? It doesn't have to be sharp,” he said, his face grim. She grimaced and nodded, reaching over to a table beside her and holding it out to him handle first. He cut the rest of Hiromasa's blood-soaked robes away, leaving him in only his hakama, and bunched them up.  
“Burn them,” he said, “And lay this knife in the fire until it glows.” The farmer's wife moved quickly to comply. Hiromasa was groaning almost nonstop now, and Seimei brushed his hair gently back from his face. He was pale and covered in beads of sweat. He took the younger man's face in both his hands.

“Hiromasa, you must fight. I will do what I can but you must stay with me,” he said, and his voice broke. Hiromasa's eyes opened and focused on him.

“Seimei, am I going to die?” he asked. Seimei bit his lip.

“Not if I can help it,” he answered truthfully, and touched his forehead to Hiromasa's.  _ Gods, please, let him live. _

“Mama, the water!” cried Miko, who had been sitting beside the pot. They poured the water into a clay bowl and brought it to Seimei, and a moment later the farmer's wife brought him the knife, red hot with its handle wrapped in a cloth. Seimei took it and looked at her.

“My lady-”

“Kaede,” she said. He nodded.

“Kaede-san, if you would hold his hand,” he said. She nodded, but instead grabbed a cloth, rolling it up tightly. She held it out to Seimei, and then took Hiromasa's hand in hers.

“For his mouth, my lord,” she explained. Seimei nodded and took it from her and held it to Hiromasa's lips. The young human looked at him, his eyes clouded with pain.

“Bite down on this, Hiromasa. This will hurt a great deal,” he said. Hiromasa did as he was told and leaned back, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Seimei swallowed, took a deep breath, and leaned forward. He pressed the still glowing blade into the largest wound. Hiromasa screamed around the cloth, arching his back until Seimei was sure it would break.

It took them hours to sear all of the wounds and clean the blood and foam away, reheating the blade and boiling more water as they ran out. Hiromasa mercifully passed out after they cauterized the third wound. Seimei was grateful for that. His screams had made him feel like throwing up even more than the stench of the oni's vile saliva. 

Finally they had finished with each wound and wiped away as much of the blood and yellow foam as they could. The futon was a loss, soaked as it was with blood and water and the gods alone knew what else. They had eased Hiromasa onto the drier side and covered the rest in Seimei's outermost robe. He would make sure Kaede and her children got a fine featherbed when this was over.

It was late in the day, and Kaede set to cleaning up the house as best she could and starting a pot of rice. Sasuke helped her, but Miko sat next to Hiromasa's head, patting his hair with one hand and sucking her thumb.

Seimei sat holding Hiromasa's hand, their fingers entwined. His other hand rested gently on Hiromasa's chest, feeling his pulse. It was very fast, but still fairly strong. They had wiped the beads of sweat from his skin, but he was still very pale. Miko took her thumb out of her mouth.

“Is Hiromasa-sama going to be all right?” she asked. Seimei looked at her, and found he was unable to answer. They had saved him from dying of blood loss, but the sickness from the oni's bite was even now simmering in the young human's veins. He could smell it, despite all they had done to cleanse the wounds. His throat suddenly felt tight.

“I-”

“We have done our best, Miko, and now Hiromasa-sama must rest,” her mother answered for him. She and Sasuke sat down on the floor across from him, and she offered him a bowl of rice. He shook his head.

“I couldn't,” he said.

“Please, my lord, we have plenty,” she said. He shook his head again.

“Thank you, but I'm not hungry.” She gave him a long look.

“My lord, you will need your strength. Hiromasa-sama will need it too,” she said, glancing at Hiromasa's unconscious form. He took the rice and a pair of chopsticks. Without letting go of Hiromasa's hand, he balanced the bowl on his knee and took a few bites. He looked up at Kaede.

“I have another favor to ask of you,” he said. She looked at him curiously. “I need a living leaf. It doesn't matter what kind.” She tilted her head in confusion, but Sasuke piped up.

“There is a bush with green leaves by the Great Castle," he said. Seimei tilted his head in confusion and looked at Kaede. She smiled.

“His stronghold in the eastern forest," she said, favoring her son with a fond look. "Are you brave enough to bring Seimei-sama a leaf for his magic?" she asked. Sasuke puffed his chest out and nodded. "Finish your rice then and go, and be very quick," she told him. 

Sasuke almost choked as he shoveled the rest of his rice into his mouth and was still chewing when he ran out the door. Seimei looked at Kaede with wonder. She looked away, embarassed.

"I hope you will forgive my son's enthusiasm," she said.

"You know of magic?" he asked. She looked up and shook her head.

"No, my lord, not as you do. My mother is a midwife, so she knows some healing lore, and she has told me many wonderful stories. But I never thought to meet a real onmyouji," she said. He raised an eyebrow at that. 

Embarassed again, she looked away and saw her daughter, who had abandoned her bowl of rice in favor of patting Hiromasa's head. "Miko, eat your rice. Lord Hiromasa needs to rest," she said, and looked apologetically at Seimei. "I'm sorry, my lord." Despite everything, he managed a smile.

"Please do not apologize, Kaede-san. Your children are charming, and a credit to you and their father," he said. She bowed low in thanks, and after that they sat in awkward silence for a while. Seimei managed to eat a few more bites, but his stomach was clenching painfully and he had to set the rest aside. He felt guilty for wasting this poor family's food.  _ Gods, but we both owe them so much. So much kindness when they have so little,  _ he thought. He would see to it that he repaid that debt, and he would start with his message to Mitsumushi.

Sasuke chose that moment to reappear in the doorway, several stems of asebo in his small hand. He ran to Seimei and bowed as he presented them. Seimei took them and thanked the boy very formally, which seemed to please him to no end. Kaede reached out and took her son's hand.

"You did very well, Sasuke. Now leave Seimei-sama alone while he works," she said, tugging him away. Seimei shook his head as he plucked one leaf off of a stem.  _ Gods, the poor bush, _ he thought. It had gotten pruned back quite a bit by the boy's enthusiasm, it seemed.

"Let him watch," he said. "He will like this." He let go of Hiromasa's hand and held the leaf up in front of him. He whispered a few words, gestured, and then brought the leaf to his mouth. He whispered his message to Mitsumushi and then blew gently on the leaf. It spiraled upward, turned one full loop, and then shot out the open door as fast as a summer swallow. Both children cried out joyfully and Miko clapped her hands. Seimei stared out the door after the leaf.

Mitsumushi would come as quickly as she could. She would bring supplies, and food, and something to thank this poor family. But there was no way she could arrive before tomorrow evening. They would have to get through tonight and most of tomorrow by themselves with what they had. 

He twined his fingers through Hiromasa's again, frowned at how cold they were, and took off his outermost robe to cover the young human. He checked Hiromasa's pulse - still too fast - and then took his hand again. He glanced up when he felt Kaede's eyes on him. She looked away quickly and stood.

"Sasuke, Miko, let's try and sleep," she said, gathering her children to her and ushering them towards a screen at the back of the small one-room house. Sasuke protested a little, but Kaede bent down and whispered to him as they disappeared behind the screen. He was quiet after that. He heard Kaede begin to sing quietly. She sang two songs in a pleasant alto, and then the house was silent.

He let out a breath and squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly feeling the weight of everything that had happened settling on him like a mountain. He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Hiromasa's lips, then sat back and watched the last of the light fade from the evening and the last of the embers of the fire go out.


	5. Despair

He had barely drifted off in the middle of the night when Hiromasa began moaning. Their fingers were still entwined, and he squeezed the younger man's hand reassuringly as he leaned forward.

"Hiromasa?" he whispered. The young human opened his eyes and looked at him, his expression taut with pain.

"It's hurts, Seimei, and I'm so cold," he said. Seimei brushed his face lightly with his fingers and then touched his forehead. It was very warm. The fever was starting.

"Mitsumushi is on her way. She will bring some medicines that can help with the pain. I'll get the fire going again and you can have another one of my robes," he said.

He gently disentangled his fingers, but before he could stand Kaede emerged from behind the screen. She held up her hand to stop him getting up and set to starting the fire again. He nodded his thanks and shrugged out of his outer robe, draping it over the younger man before taking his hand again. Kaede knelt beside them and offered Seimei a cup of water. He took it from her and helped Hiromasa take a few small swallows.

The fire was soon going strong and Kaede disappeared again behind the screen. Seimei held Hiromasa's hand and begged every god he could think of for the impossible.

 

By morning Hiromasa was delirious with pain and fever. Seimei pressed cool rags to his forehead, gently trickled water past his dry and cracked lips, held his hand and talked to him about anything he could think of, and quietly tried not to go mad as he watched him get worse with every hour that passed. The smell from his wounds was strong enough to make him gag, and when Seimei summoned his courage and looked they were bright red and hot and swollen almost completely shut. Yellow pus leaked from most of them. He wet a cloth and gently wiped it away. Hiromasa cried out in pain when he touched the wounds, and that brought Kaede and her children out from behind the screen. He looked at Kaede, his expression panicked, and she knelt and pulled her children to her.

"Sasuke, I want you to take some rice and play with your sister outside this morning. Stay together and don't go too far from the house," she said. Sasuke frowned at her.

"But I want to help, Mama," he said, pouting. She ruffled his hair.

"You will be helping. While you are outside I want you to find the most beautiful stone you can to give to Lord Hiromasa when he is better," she said. Sasuke considered this, and nodded solemnly. Kaede rolled a rice ball for each of them and ushered them out the door, then joined him next to the futon.

"He is worse, my lord?" she asked quietly. He nodded. "There is a willow tree at the edge of the rice fields. We could make a tea for him," she said. He looked at her and nodded again, but found he couldn't speak. She rose, set a pot of water over the still hot coals, and left the house. Seimei touched his fingers to Hiromasa's throat and found his heart was racing. He was breathing in short, quick gasps. 

Seimei picked up a cloth, dipped it in water, wrung in out, and laid it across Hiromasa's forehead. He leaned over and gently touched the younger man's cheek.

"Hiro, my sweet one. You must fight. I know it hurts and you're cold, but you must fight," he said, and felt himself begin to shake.  _ You understood the consequences when you chose this path, you poor fool,  _ his inner voice of logic and reason reminded him.

A shadow fell across him, and he looked up quickly to see Kaede in the doorway. She had brought back several long willow branches and a large handful of bark. She broke them up into small pieces and put them into the nearly boiling water, then knelt at his side.

"The willow tea will be ready soon, my lord," she told him. He nodded and took Hiromasa's hand again. He felt Kaede's eyes on him, but when he looked over she was gathering up the dirty cloths around Hiromasa's sickbed.

"Kaede-san," he said, and she looked at him, her expression guarded. "I am sorry for this. We have invaded your home, disrupted your lives..." She was shaking her head emphatically, but he held up his free hand to keep her from talking. "No, we have, although by all the gods I never wanted this to happen. But I promise you, I will repay our debt to you," he said.  _ No matter what happens,  _ he finished in his head, and felt sick. He looked away from her, back to Hiromasa, to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

"My lord, there is no debt. You helped us and now we are helping you. That is what good people do for each other," she said. He swallowed.  _ I am not a good person,  _ he thought,  _ not really. But Hiromasa thinks I am. He has always believed the best of me. _ With that thought he began to shake again.

He didn't notice Kaede getting up, but a moment later she knelt at his side with a cup of steaming willow tea. He looked around for a cloth and found none, so he ripped the sleeve of his outermost robe off and folded it. He dipped a corner in the tea and pressed it to Hiromasa's parted lips. The liquid slowly dripped out of the cloth, and when it was dry Seimei would wet it and begin the process again.

He went through three cups of tea this way. Hiromasa never woke up. He would moan and shake his head, his features contorted in pain, and then seem to settle down for a while. When the tea was gone Seimei held his hand and stroked his hair. When he had been sick Hiromasa had sung to him in his gorgeous baritone, but Seimei had neither the voice nor the heart to sing.

The tea did not help. Hiromasa continued to worsen, and by the afternoon he was burning hot and in such pain that he would thrash and scream in his sleep. At one point he woke up, his face a mask of pain, and looked at Seimei with such terrible desperation that suddenly he knew, without a doubt, that Hiromasa would not survive this.

 


	6. Loss

He was so exhausted and sick with grief that he barely noticed when Mitsumushi arrived. She was early, several hours early by any estimate, but Seimei knew it would not matter. She was too late for Hiromasa. He would be dead by dawn. She rushed to Seimei's side, her pretty features grief-stricken.

"Hiromasa-sama?" she asked, and looked at Seimei. He looked up at her, and shook his head, his eyes bloodshot and puffy with unshed tears. Hiromasa was alive, but only just. It was only a matter of time. Mitsumushi reached out and gently touched Hiromasa's face, something that Seimei had never seen her do. She was always sweet and friendly, but also carefully kept her distance from everyone, even him. He had always supposed that was a natural habit of butterflies. Her fingers flitted over Hiromasa's face, then moved to light briefly on his neck. She looked up at Seimei with a determined look on her face.

"He lives. He will live," she said stubbornly, and set to work.

Mitsumushi had outdone herself. She and an veritable army of shikigami unloaded fresh clothes, bedding, and a chest full of medicines and bandages. She conferred briefly with Kaede, which went surprisingly well since Mitsumushi didn't really talk and Kaede was so stunned by the sudden influx of what appeared to her to be richly dressed nobles into her home she was nearly speechless.

Kaede was quick to discover that the shikigami were servants and would take orders from her. Between them they boiled water, made a half-dozen different kinds of tea, and laid out fresh bandages and linens. Mitsumushi had brought a new feather-stuffed futon for Kaede and her children, but when she saw the state of the one Hiromasa was lying on she sighed and had it hauled in to replace that one. She knelt beside Seimei.

"Seimei-sama?" she asked. He looked at her. He had only been vaguely aware of the bustle around him. He was holding Hiromasa's hand in both of his, gently rubbing his palm and the backs of his fingers. He felt paralyzed, as if Hiromasa was holding on to him, and if he let go the young human would surely die. Mitsumushi gestured at the dirty futon and then at the new one. Seimei felt panic rise in his throat.

"No, we mustn't move him," he said. "He's too ill. He won't survive it. He-"

"Seimei-sama." Kaede's voice was soft but firm. "He will be more comfortable this way, and so will you. It will only take a moment." He looked at her, his eyes wide, his stomach clenching. He didn't want to move Hiromasa. He wanted to hold on to him. He  _ had _ to hold on to him. “You can stay with him, hold his hand. The servants and I can move him.” Her eyes were gentle, and he nodded. 

Mitsumushi, Kaede, and the shikigami laid out the new futon and covered it in several layers of linen. Kaede arranged the shikigami next, spacing them evenly around Hiromasa, and they each eased their hands under Hiromasa's unconscious form, avoiding the wounds on his left side. They lifted him, Seimei still holding onto his hand, and gently lowered him onto the clean linens.

The young human moaned and shook his head back and forth several times, but when Seimei knelt beside him and touched his cheek with his free hand he was not awake. Seimei desperately wanted to tell him that help had arrived, that things would be okay, that he was here with him and he would not let anything happen to him. _It's better that he's unconscious, then, you fool, because you would be lying to him._

Kaede and the shikigami dragged the blood and pus stained ruin of the old futon outside, and when they came back inside Kaede removed the robes covering Hiromasa and threw them in the fire. His wounds were still swollen almost shut, but now they were leaking blood and pus copiously, and the flesh of his entire left torso was an angry red color. Red streaks stretched like tentacles from each wound, and there was a crust of blood and pus over most of his left side. Seimei closed his eyes and squeezed Hiromasa's cold fingers. 

He heard silk rustle beside him and opened his eyes to find Mitsumushi kneeling at his side with a cup of tea.

"Seimei-sama?" she said, holding it out to him. He shook his head, and she pursed her lips. She gently pried one of his hands off of Hiromasa's and placed the teacup into it.

"Drink," she said. He looked at her, and she stared back at him. He drained the cup, handed it back to her, and took Hiromasa's hand again. Mitsumushi laid a hand on his arm and he looked up at her.

“He lives. He will live,” she said. He wished he could believe her.

Together, they cleaned his wounds and gently helped him swallow herbal teas sweetened with honey. Seimei pressed wet cloths to his forehead and held his hand. The afternoon wore on into evening, and Hiromasa got worse.

 

It was well after midnight, only a few hours from dawn. Hiromasa's breaths were ragged and gasping, his heartbeat thready. His wounds were weeping copiously, and no matter how often Seimei cleaned them it would only be moments before they starting oozing again. No matter what he did now, Hiromasa did not have much time left.

Mitsumushi and Kaede and the children had fallen asleep in a heap by the fire hours ago. He was alone with Hiromasa in the fading firelight. He sat beside the younger man, holding his hand and leaning over to stroke his cheek. Hiromasa had not woken since the previous night. His last words to him had been about Mitsumushi and staying warm. _If I had known that would be the last time I spoke to him_... he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears welling in them.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to Hiromasa's. The young human sucked in a shuddering breath. It escaped him in a long sigh, whistling past his teeth and parted lips, and then he was still.

Seimei stared at him, waiting for the next breath. It did not come. Tears rolling down his cheeks, he moved his fingers to the younger man's neck. There was nothing. Hiromasa, his sweet Hiromasa, was dead.

Agony welled up inside him like flames. He threw back his head and screamed. The others started awake. He gathered Hiromasa's body into his arms and held him tightly, his sobs shaking them both. He buried his face into the crook of the human's neck and shoulder and tightened his grip again until his fingers began to cramp.

“Seimei-sama?” He didn't respond at first, not until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He pulled away, snapping his head up. Mitsumushi's face was inches from his. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“He's dead,” he sobbed. “He's dead, gods, he's dead. Mitsumushi...” She reached out and touched his cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into Hiromasa's neck again. His world shrank to the still warm body in his arms. He laid down, lowering Hiromasa along with him, and curled up with the body. He laid his head on the human's chest and sobbed, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

He vaguely heard Kaede ushering her children outside, and Mitsumushi crying softly nearby. He cried until he was exhausted, shuddering, and almost sick. Even when his tears ran dry he did not let go of Hiromasa. He wanted to hold on to him forever, to lay here with him until death took him too.

“Seimei-sama?” It was Kaede's voice. He didn't move. “I'm so sorry,” she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes red and his face deeply lined with grief. He nodded numbly, still clutching Hiromasa's body to him. He was still so warm. Seimei looked down at him.

His face, now that the pain had ended and the sweat had dried, looked almost peaceful. Seimei reached up and stroked his cheek, then leaned down and kissed his lips. He heard Kaede gasp, but he didn't care. To all nine hells with what she or anyone else thought. None of it mattered now, if it had ever mattered at all. And then he felt it.

Hiromasa's chest moved. He stared, watched as it rose and fell several times. It was slow, but...

“He's breathing!” Frantically he pressed his fingers to Hiromasa's throat. There was a pulse there, slow but steady. He half-laughed, half-sobbed as Mitsumushi knelt beside them. She reached out and gently stroked Hiromasa's forehead.

“He lives. He will live,” she said, and he nodded, finally believing her.


	7. Beaten

The next morning, Hiromasa still slept, but it was clear he was healing. His fever was down, and even the wounds were much improved, the redness receding and the pus finally ceasing its flow. Seimei still sat next to him, his hand on the younger man's chest, feeling every precious heartbeat and breath.

His own breaths were heavy, shuddering. He was exhausted. He hadn't slept in days, and he felt as though all life had been drained from him. He felt fragile, brittle, as if a swift strike would shatter him into ten thousand pieces. He kept his hand on Hiromasa's chest, feeling the rise and fall of each breath and the strong, sure beat of his heart.

_I cannot do this anymore._ Part of him was happy- no, _overjoyed_ that Hiromasa was recovering. Of course he was. But there was a hollowness in his chest that he could not ignore. It had opened when he had thought Hiromasa was dead, and it had not even begun to close. If anything, it was getting worse.

This had been just a taste, a bare hint at the sorrow his mother had suffered when his father had been killed. His mother was not known for an abundance of sentiment, but where his father had been concerned she had made an exception. When Abe no Yasuna had died, it had wounded her so deeply that nearly a century later Seimei knew she still mourned for him, her grief hidden underneath a hard and beautiful shell but still raw and fresh when exposed. He was not so strong as she. If Hiromasa had died, he would have gone completely mad.

It had all been a fantasy. What future could he and this human boy possibly have together? Another few months, a year if he was incredibly fortunate, of furtive lovemaking, of Hiromasa dodging questions from the other courtiers and he avoiding court altogether, of missions for the Emperor and drinking sake and moon watching and wishing for something that could never be.

And then eventually Hiromasa would not be able to avoid his mother's shrill insistence that he get married. She would choose a bride for him, some pretty girl advantageous to her family's ambitions, and Hiromasa would dutifully sire children on her, and what they shared now, if it was allowed to continue at all, would pale when Hiromasa looked into his childrens' eyes for the first time.

He, Seimei, would fade into the background, watching as Hiromasa lived his short human life and fulfilled his small human destiny. And then one day, sooner or later, one way or another, Hiromasa would die, and he would be utterly alone.

_I cannot do this._ He could not cling to this hopeless dream, however wonderful it had been while it lasted. If he left... yes, if he left _now_ , he could go anywhere, make a new life for himself and try to forget what he had left behind. Hiromasa would move on with his life. He was young. He had so much ahead of him. It would be better for both of them, in the end.

He looked up at the young man's face, peaceful now in sleep. _Goodbye, sweet one._ Slowly, he lifted his hand from Hiromasa's chest, gathered what was left of his robes around him, and stood shakily. Mitsumushi looked up at him from where she sat across the room, showing Miko how to fold a cicada out of paper.

“Seimei-sama?” she asked. He ignored her.

_I cannot._

He walked out of the door, past a bewildered Kaede and Sasuke who looked up from their work in the fields to watch him go, and did not look back. 


	8. Broken

 It was two days before he felt the ripple of someone crossing the spiritual barriers at Ichijou Modori Bridge. He had barely slept, and had only eaten a few bites of whatever Mitsumushi had set in front of him when she had returned the day before.

He was sitting in his study, sorting through his scrolls. He had looked at nearly all of them, but had hardly seen them. His thoughts were everywhere and nowhere. One minute he was furiously trying to plan what he would do and where he would go, the next he was overcome with emotion, almost reduced to tears by the enormity of what he was leaving behind.

But Hiromasa was not his, not truly, and he never could be. That fact had been demonstrated to him with terrible clarity, and he was not going to ignore it any longer.

Mitsumushi sat nearby, silent, her face sad as she watched him. She had offered to help, but he had waved her away. He didn't really know what he was doing himself; how could she possibly help him?

He supposed he was trying to decide what to take with him. To where exactly, he wasn't sure yet. China was his first thought, but the humans he had known there were probably long dead. He had thought about simply disappearing into the wilds, but - and this was hard to admit- he'd grown accustomed to his comfortable life as a human, and did not relish the thought of living as a wild fox.

When he felt the ripple from the bridge his stomach clenched, and a wave of nausea rolled through him. He had tried to rehearse in his head a thousand times already what he would say, but always his thoughts had ended in a jumbled mess. He wasn't ready for this. He had thought he would have more time. Hiromasa had been so ill; surely he couldn't have recovered enough in two days to make the journey?

He steeled himself when he heard the gate in the garden swing open. Hiromasa stepped through tentatively, looking around for Seimei. Mitsumushi watched Seimei for a while and, seeing he wasn't going to move, stood and quietly went out to greet Hiromasa. She gestured to where Seimei was sitting, and then changed into butterfly form and flitted away. Seimei wished he could follow her.

"Seimei?" Hiromasa's voice was very quiet.

Seimei ignored him and tried to focus on the scroll floating in front of him. He was shaking so hard he couldn't read it, though whether it was from fear or anger he wasn't sure. His mind was a maelstrom. He took a deep breath, tried to steady himself, and failed.

The silence stretched between them. Hiromasa took a tentative step forward, and Seimei jerked his head up. Hiromasa stopped dead at the look on his face.

"Seimei?" he said again.

"Why have you come?" Hiromasa took a step back, his eyes wide.

"I... I came to see you," he said.

"I'm very busy. Now is not a good time." His voice was tight; his throat felt as though it was closing with every word he spoke.

"Seimei..."

"You should be resting. You nearly died," he said, and nearly choked on the last word.

"I... I feel better. Much better. Thanks to you." Seimei stared at him. "Seimei, please say something."

"You do not want to hear what I have to say," he said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.

"Seimei... I'm sorry. I know you said to stay away from the oni, but you were in danger. I couldn't just stand by-" Seimei gestured sharply with his right hand and sent the floating scroll in front of him flying out into the garden. It snagged on a tree branch and tore.

"You could have, but you chose not to, because you fancy yourself a hero," he snarled. Hiromasa took another step back and nearly fell off the veranda.

"You were a fool, Hiromasa. You risked your life carelessly. You are not a great hero of legend. You are a mortal ma- a mortal _boy_ toying with forces he does not understand."

Hiromasa drew himself up. "You are being unfair, Seimei. I was trying to protect you!" he said. "I _did_ protect you."

"I had the situation under control!"

"You had been hit twice! You looked as though you were a hair's breadth from passing out!" he said. He swallowed. "Seimei, why does it matter? We fought the oni, and we won, and we are both still alive, here, together. Why-"

"Because I can not, I _will_ not, be responsible for your death!" His voice cracked and he turned away to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

“Seimei, even if I had died, it would not have been your fault. It was a battle. Sometimes people die in battles.”

He whirled, his robes twisting around him, his eyes ablaze. “It was a battle that was not yours to fight! You should not have been there! You think it's a game, breaking curses and fighting demons. You tag along with me, not understanding anything, and expect me to protect you!”

“I don't expect you to protect me, Seimei. I come with you because I want to help!” he said, his voice desperate. “I thought you wanted me to come,” he said quietly.

“Then you thought incorrectly,” he said, and felt a pit in his stomach open up at the hurt in Hiromasa's eyes. “You barged into my life and demanded this and that of me, and I was foolish enough to comply for a time. But I cannot do this anymore. I cannot be responsible for you-”

“Seimei, I told you. You are not-”

“I am! As long as things remain the way they are I am responsible for you. You and I are from different worlds, Hiromasa. You are a high ranking court noble, and I am-”

“Seimei, I don't care what you are-”

“An onmyouji,” he finished. “You do not belong in my world, and I do not belong in yours.” Hiromasa stared at him.

“Seimei, what are you saying?”

“I am saying you should go, and live the life you were born to, and stop playing this dangerous game.”

Hiromasa's mouth dropped open.

“Seimei, why are you doing this? Because I almost died?” Seimei started to interrupt him again, but Hiromasa stepped forward, his voice rising. “Seimei, I would gladly have died for you. I would give anything for you,” he said, his voice breaking. “You must know that.”

It was Seimei's turn to stare. He would never have guessed, never would have dared to hope, that Hiromasa felt that way. He swallowed, fighting a surge of emotion. _It doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything,_ he thought, his stomach and mind roiling.

“I don't want you to give up anything for me,” he said, his voice thick. Hiromasa searched his face desperately, looking for some hint that this was some terrible mistake, that things could be all right between them again. He did not find it.

"Did you mean what you said, Seimei? Because if you did I will leave right now, just as you asked, and you can be assured that I will never trouble you again." Hiromasa's voice was steady, but his eyes were nearly overflowing with tears. Seimei looked at him steadily, feeling his insides clench painfully. This was it. This was goodbye.

"I- yes, Hiromasa. I think that would be best," he said, and he felt physically ill when Hiromasa flinched as though he'd been punched in the stomach. Then the younger man swallowed reflexively, straightened, and nodded. Seimei could see his jaw trembling, and looked away lest he lose his nerve.

Hiromasa swallowed again before replying. "I see. I'm sorry to have been a bother," he said formally, though his voice was breaking, and out of the corner of his eye Seimei could see the tears had spilled over and were rolling freely down his cheeks. "Goodbye, Seimei." And with that he turned sharply and left.

Seimei watched him go, felt the gates close, and sometime later felt the outer barriers ripple as the young human passed over the bridge. Then, and only then, did he succumb completely to grief and despair. 


	9. Hope

He woke in the middle of the night. He had not moved from the spot where Hiromasa had left him. He had collapsed there, and a detached part of his mind had been surprised when he began to weep, great gasping sobs that shook his whole body. He had wept until exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a deep, fitful sleep.

Awake now, his body sore from lying on the cold wooden floor, he sat up and looked around, feeling raw and shaken. Mitsumushi was nearby, curled up in a corner asleep with her head propped on a shelf. Sweet girl; she had tried to stand vigil for him. Otherwise, the house was empty, the shikigami reduced to paper dolls when he had lost consciousness.

He stood shakily, and the sound of his movements woke Mitsumushi up. She yawned prettily and moved to follow him, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"Thank you, Mitsumushi, but I wish to be alone," he said, his voice hoarse. She regarded him solemnly and nodded. He went out into the garden.

It was bitterly cold now, and a light late winter snow had begun to fall. His gardens were already turning white. He stood in the garden, his feet so cold they were starting to burn, and stared listlessly at the bare branches of a maple tree and the snow flakes swirling between them.

_Gods, what have I done?_

A faint rustle made him look up. Mitsumushi, apparently unable to help herself, had come to stand on the porch. She regarded him sadly through the snow.

"What h ave I done, Mitsumushi?" he asked her, not expecting a response.

"Hiromasa-sama is gone forever," she said, her voice incredibly sad. She meant it as a statement, he was sure, but it stung him like an accusation.

_I would give anything for you. You must know that,_ Hiromasa had said. And yet he hadn't known. He had maintained a careful distance between them, never allowing himself to show how he truly felt about the younger man and never allowing himself to dream that Hiromasa might feel the same way.

_If he truly feels as I do_... but no. There was no point in thinking that way. It would not change anything. They were still from different worlds. It was impossible for them to be together, no matter how they felt about each other. So much stood in their way...

_I would give anything for you._ And he had. He had willingly given his life, without a second thought, to save him. And then he had given up everything they shared, because Seimei had asked him to. Seimei had asked it of him, and he had done it. For Hiromasa, it seemed, things were that simple. Why couldn't things be that simple for him?

He squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden surge of feeling. Hiromasa had given everything for him. How could he have just given up on what they had, on what they might have, so easily? Because he was scared of losing him? He had just lost him, as effectively as if the younger man had died from the oni's venom. But instead of losing him to death, terrible and inevitable as it was, he had lost him to his own cowardice and foolishness.

A sudden insane thought came to him. His voice of reason and good sense tried to dismiss it, suggested he was sleep deprived and too cold to make rational decisions, and prescribed a few cups of strong hot tea and a good night's sleep so he would forget this madness. He ignored it, his mind racing with how he might make it work. He would have to ask _her_ , of course, there was simply no getting around that, not if he intended to do things properly. And then there would be Hiromasa himself to face. And then, gods, the rest of the whole damned world.

He clenched his jaw stubbornly, suddenly determined, and shook himself off almost fox-style, sending snowflakes swirling around him. He was not going to let it end this way. Hiromasa had given, would give, everything for him, and he could do no less for him in return.

Whatever happened, he would fight for Minamoto no Hiromasa, the man he loved.

He let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. _Ye gods, you fool... all this time, all this torment, and only now can you admit to yourself how you truly feel for the boy?_ Despite everything, he laughed softly, and looked up when Mitsumushi made a small confused noise from where she stood on the veranda.

He smiled at her, feeling almost dizzy with a mixture of sudden relief and new fear. Relief at finally letting go, at finally admitting to himself how he felt, at knowing what he must now do. And fear that he would fail, that he had let things go too far, that Hiromasa would refuse to see him even if he- no. He had had enough of fear and doubt. The gods alone knew if this would work, and his voice of reason and good sense was systematically listing reasons it wouldn't, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try.

His mind made up, he went to Mitsumushi, who was standing on the veranda and watching him with large dark eyes.

"Mitsumushi, I need you to watch the house. Will you be all right by yourself for a few days?" he asked gently. She nodded but looked utterly bewildered.

"Seimei-sama is leaving?" she asked. He nodded.

"I'm going to... I'm going to ask Hiromasa to come back,” he said, and she tilted her head at him quizzically. “I can't let him go,” he said, looking away from her, feeling embarrassed and not quite understanding why. Mitsumushi was a sweet and clever girl, but he had caught himself too often thinking of her as simple because she spoke so little. That was a mistake, he knew. She had probably known before they did what was going on between them. He sighed and looked back at her, swallowing his pride as much as he could.

“I'm going to ask him to come back to stay... forever,” he said, feeling the heat on his cheeks and wishing some of it would move to his toes. Mitsumushi smiled brilliantly and laughed, the sound like bells in the chill air.

“Ganbatte kudasai, Seimei-sama,” she said. He smiled at her, and nodded briskly. With that, he _changed_ , and was off on white fox feet into the falling snow. 


	10. Determination

He ran through the woods north of his home as fast as his fox feet would carry him. Part of him, the ever-present voice of reason and good sense, was screaming at him to go back home, that this was madness, that if he wanted to kill himself there were easier ways. But no, he had to find her, had to take that risk. He had never asked for her help before, but he had nowhere else to turn and she, of all people, might understand. Or she might kill him for his foolishness and brashness. Such was the reputation of his mother, the Lady Kuzunoha.

He was deep into the northern wood before cold and exhaustion forced him to stop. He sat panting and shivering by a pair of ancient birches, contemplating his next move. His mother was known to frequent these woods when she was in the ningenkai, but Seimei knew he could only make his presence known and wait. She would find him when she was ready.

He looked around for shelter and spotted a dense thicket of boxwood. He crawled under it, tucked his ears and tail close to his body, and tried his best to sleep.

When he awoke, it was nightfall again, but worst of the wind and snow had stopped. A few flakes still drifted down amongst the trees, and the forest was eerily quiet. He stood up and shook off, sending snow flying where it had settled on his fur.

He raised his nose to the air, but found he could only detect fresh snow and boxwood. He snorted and shook again. Enhanced senses were all well and good, but they did take getting used to. And smell was a difficult and tedious book to read if you didn't keep up with the language.

He decided to keep moving. It would keep him warm, pass the time, and maybe serve to keep his mind off Hiromasa's eyes, dark and hurt and spilling over with tears.

He padded over the snow randomly for a while, stopping to sniff at the occasional fallen log or low growing vegetation, hoping to improve his "vocabulary". Before long he found a well used shika trail heading northeast and set off along it at a brisk trot.

He traveled about a mile before the trail began to curve eastward. He thought about keeping his northeast heading, but the brambles were thick in this part of the woods and it was easier just to stick to the trail. When the trail began to curve south and became steeply downhill, he moved to turn back only to find his path blocked by thick branches dotted with wicked looking thorns.

He willed the branches to part for him, but they did not so much as twitch. They looked as though they had been there for decades, and yet he _knew_ he had come that way just a few moments before. He took a deep breath and turned around again, ready to start down the southern path.

Scarcely an inch in front of his face was an impenetrable wall of thorns, huge vines with spikes a long as his human fingers. He pulled up short, swallowing reflexively and licking his muzzle, and waited. It wouldn't be long now.

"What are you doing here, little fox?" came a thousand whispers, as if every twig and root in the woods were joining his inquisition. "You do not belong here, little fox. We can tell. We can _smell_ how wrong you are in this place."

"I have come seeking the Lady Kuzunoha, to partake of her wisdom if she will share it and to ask a boon if she will grant it," he said in the Old Tongue. The thousand voices of the forest seemed to be laughing.

"The Lady Kuzunoha? A boon, says the little fox?" the voices chuckled. The thorns around him began to move, twisting and tightening until he had only enough room to sit sharply upright, hardly daring to breathe lest one of the huge thorns prick his flesh through his fur.

"And what if the little fox dies for his insolence instead?" asked the voices, full of mirth. One of the vines slipped under his belly and between his front paws and drove a thorn spike upwards until it just pierced the tender skin of his throat. Blood dripped onto the snow, shocking red in this gray and white winter wood.

"Then the Lady Kuzunoha will have lost a son, and this little fox his life, all for the brutal amusement of some bramble vines," he said, sounding more calm than he felt. He felt profound satisfaction and not a small amount of relief when the vines stopped their shifting.

"The Lady Kuzunoha has no son," hissed the voices, though he noted the spike in his neck did not advance.

"Hm... I would beg to differ, but of course you can hardly trust me, a lowly hanyou. Perhaps you might ask her, though, before doing something that might provoke her wrath," he said, trying to keep his breathing even. The vines did not retract, but nor did they advance. The whispers continued, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

Finally, the whispers ceased, and the vines at his throat and in front of him retracted just enough for him to squeeze through. He still ended up scratching both his ears and his lower belly before he got to the other side, but once he did the path was open. He shook off, wincing at the way the thorn wounds burned, and set off down the path.

He'd only been walking a few minutes when he spotted a light ahead, far down the path but still visible in the snow, dim and green... foxfire. He slowed to a careful pace, glancing around at every sound and sniffing the air. The snow had stopped, and he could swear the air was growing warmer. By the time he'd reached the source of the light, a shelf fungus of enormous size, the snow was entirely gone and he was walking on a bright green carpet of warm moss. His toes tingled under their coating of thick white fur.

The trees here were gigantic, so large that two men could not have circled them with their arms, and covered in fungi lit by foxfire. Almost without him realizing it, the sounds of the forest had returned. Frogs croaked somewhere up in the treetops, and the occasional nightingale sang softly to the darkened wood.

A flash of white caught his eye and he spun just in time to see a huge pale owl fly within inches of him to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. There was a tiny shriek as the owl dispatched its prey. It turned to stare at him balefully with huge green eyes before taking off again, the mouse limp in the talons of one foot. Seimei stared after it, heart racing.

"You must be truly desperate to come here, kitling," said a resonant voice directly behind his left ear. He yelped and spun again, only to see a woman of unparalleled beauty sitting serenely beneath a tree some ten yards away, lazily braiding bamboo leaves into her hair. His mother, the Lady Kuzunoha.

He took a deep breath and _changed_. When he was human again he went to his knees and bowed deeply.

"Haha-ue," he said, hoping he was striking the right tone. When he looked up, his mother was smiling, although the gods alone knew what that meant.

"It's been some time, Seimei. Eighty years, is it?" she asked, still braiding. She was dressed in long silk robes the color of freshly hulled rice, accented in a vibrant green that matched her eyes perfectly. Her face was pale, with full pink lips and high cheekbones. Her pupils were slits in her green eyes, and a pair of white fox ears poked up through her exquisitely long hair. He could see her nine tails fanning out behind her, luxuriantly thick.

"Ninety, I think, Lady Mother," he said, sitting up and resting his hands on his knees. She tilted her head, considering.

"Yes, I suppose it has been," she said, and then leaned forward, a dangerous, toothy smile on her face. "And what brings my only son here after nearly a century?"

He started a little at "only son". Could he truly be? Of course, she could have plenty of daughters. He turned his attention back to her question, wondering where to start. "I... I've come to ask for your help with something very important-" he began, and Kuzunoha held up a pale and slender hand.

"Ah-ah, Seimei, don't start. I can understand your attachment to them for now, I suppose, but I don't interfere in the affairs of humans," she said, and picked up a dogwood flower from a pile of vegetation in her lap. She regarded it carefully, then drew her finger along it's short stem. The stem lengthened as she moved her fingers until it was an arm's length. She set it aside and sorted through the pile on her lap again, not bothering to look up at him.

"What I would ask is for me, though there is a human involved," he said, and quickly found himself wishing he hadn't when Kuzunoha looked up sharply from her blossoms and leaves. Her bright green eyes pierced him, and for a long time she said nothing.

"You've fallen in love with one of them, haven't you?" she asked, her face a mask. The flat, toneless way in which she said it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but he nodded nonetheless. For a moment her jaw tightened, and he prepared himself for an outburst, but then she simply sighed, her eyes sad and faraway.

"Oh, Seimei," she said, shaking her head, "I thought you knew better than that. You of all people." She regarded him for a minute longer, then looked away, out into the forest, her eyes glassy and incomparably sad.

"I know, Lady Mother. I tried not to. Inari knows I tried," he said, and his mother turned to look at him again, curious. "But I failed, and in my cowardice and foolishness I've hurt them and now I fear I've lost what time we might have had together," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Kuzunoha surprised him by standing gracefully, the flowers and leaves spilling out of her lap and onto the moss carpet of the forest, and crossing the distance between them in a few fluid steps. When she reached him she knelt in front of him and took both his hands in hers. He stared at their fingers, intertwined, surprised at how much his hands looked like hers, pale and slender.

"Oh Seimei, sweet Seimei. My little boy," she said, squeezing his hands gently. "I know you cannot help your heart, no more than I could help mine when I met your father. But why come to me? I have no more control over your heart than you do, and whatever you've done to hurt this person is yours to undo. Surely you want them to come to you willingly, not because of some charm?"

Seimei looked up at her, dark eyes meeting green ones. "I came to ask you for your permission to marry in the tradition of our people, and for a pair of betrothal amulets if you'll grant it," he said, and was surprised to see his mother break into a wide grin.

"You're going to propose a fox wedding to this girl? Who is she? A noblewoman well beyond your rank, or a peasant girl you're going to rescue from the fields and dress in fine silks and feed sweet rice cakes to?" she asked, barely suppressing laughter. She dropped one of his hands to cover her mouth delicately, fairly shaking with giggles. Seimei felt a flash of annoyance.

"She is a he, mother, a young nobleman," he said, and added tartly, "If this was a woman things would be much simpler, no matter who she was." But it was too late. Kuzunoha dissolved into gales of laughter, and it took her several minutes to collect herself.

"I'm sorry, Seimei," she said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "You've always been the most serious of my children. I'm having trouble imagining you being so besotted with some human as to actually consider a fox wedding. It's rare enough for our people to marry outsiders. Your father and I were the last, and when we wed it had been centuries since such a thing had happened last," she said, suddenly more serious.

Gods, but his mother's moods were capricious. He reminded himself sternly how dangerous the lovely woman sitting across from him could be.

“He is not an outsider to me, Lady Mother. I am human as well.”

She took his hands again in both of hers before she spoke again.

"He must be an extraordinary human, to have you in such a state," she said softly, meeting his eyes.

That was the understatement of the century. "He is."

"I should like to meet him."

"I... I doubt he'd see me right now."

"Fouled things up that badly, hm?" Seimei pursed his lips at that, but then looked away.

"Yes. I was hoping to offer the amulets to show him..." he trailed off.

"That you're serious about him?" his mother finished for him. He nodded. "And are you?" Seimei glared at her.

"Of course I am! I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," he said.

"You know our people mate for life, Seimei, and that his life is going to be very short compared to yours," she said gently, squeezing his hands again for emphasis. "You will have to watch him grow old, and die, while you remain just as you are. Are you truly prepared for that?"

Seimei felt his stomach clench, and he looked away. "I... I don't know what else to do, mother. He is everything to me. I love him more than my own life. I... even if it means watching him age and die, I would rather have spent that time with him then lose him now," he said, his voice breaking. He looked back at her, his eyes wet with tears. One spilled over and ran down his cheek, and Kuzunoha shocked him by leaning in and kissing it away. When she pulled back she let go of his hands and took hold of his face gently.

"Then we shall do our best to win him back," she said, smiling. "You shall have the finest betrothal amulets in this or any other world, but the rest will be up to you," she said, and placed one more kiss on the tip of his nose before settling back on her feet again. She reached out and touched the wound on his neck.

“You have my apologies for this, kitling. Those damnable brambles have proven to be difficult to train, but they're very winter hardy,” she said, her smile going a little crooked in an expression he knew well. "Well, in any event, the metal weavers are the sort that sleep at night, so there'll be no one to ask about the amulets until morning. Why don't you tell me about this boy love of yours?"

"What do you want to know?" he asked, feeling dazed by the rush of emotions competing for attention in his brain and his mother's amazing capacity to change the subject.

"Oh Seimei! Use your head! Is he handsome?"

"Extraordinarily." Kuzunoha grinned broadly at that.

"Brave? Kind? A skilled warrior?"

"Yes, yes, and an excellent archer. He's a disaster at swordplay." Kuzunoha smirked.

"One would think a man of your tastes would find that off putting," she said, raising a sly eyebrow. Seimei's jaw dropped open and he stared at her, scandalized.

"Oh come now, Seimei! What a face! Do you truly expect me to believe you haven't bedded the boy?"

Seimei drew himself up, prepared to deny it to this poised and beautiful woman who was his _mother_ , after all, but ultimately he sighed and glanced away, unable to meet her eyes. "Of course I have," he said quietly. _More like he bedded me_ , he thought, but that was between he and Hiromasa and absolutely no one else.

"And how was it?" came the slinky reply. Seimei turned to face her, shocked, blushing pink and hot across his cheeks.

"Mother! How can you ask me that?" he sputtered. Kuzunoha met his gaze calmly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Well?"

"Well, what? Mother, I refuse to discuss that with you," he said, attempting to collect himself.

"More's the pity. You've been around humans too long. So he's a loss at swordplay, at least of _that_ variety,” she purred, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Seimei looked away again, still blushing furiously.

“How is he with words?" she asked, and Seimei felt dizzy again at the change of subject, but relieved that the subject was no longer his sex life. Ye gods, he had barely come to terms with the nature of that part of he and Hiromasa's relationship himself, however satisfying it was.

"He's a clumsy poet, but a brilliant musician," he said.

"How delightful, what does he play?"

"The flute, and lately he's been learning the biwa."

“Charming. Does he write his own music?”

“Often, yes, though he just as often plays music he finds in the Imperial library.”

“Has he written a song for you?” she asked, smirking again.

“He's offered countless times. I've... discouraged him from doing so,” Seimei said, suddenly feeling guilty. He had missed so much by keeping that distance between them, and had no doubt hurt Hiromasa besides.

“More fool you. Perhaps he will write a song for me after we've met,” Kuzunoha said dreamily, and Seimei found the thought positively grating. He tried not to let it show on his face, and was apparently unsuccessful.

“How would you like that, Seimei-chan?” she asked him, leaning forward and grinning lasciviously. When he huffed and looked away, discomfited, she began giggling again.

“Jealous, Seimei?” she managed between giggles. “Well if you've damaged your relationship with him beyond repair, I don't see why I shouldn't have a go at him-”

Seimei stared at her.

“You wouldn't.” Her giggling only intensified. “Mother, you wouldn't dare-”

The movement was so quick he didn't realize what had happened until he was gasping for breath, Kuzunoha's delicate fingers circling his throat and the rough bark of a poplar at his back. Her fingers were like steel.

“Careful, Seimei. You may be my only son, but if you ever presume to dictate to me what I may or may not dare to do, I shall have to content myself with mothering your dozens of sisters,” she said, her voice deceptively quiet and calm. “Do we have an understanding?”

He nodded, and she dropped him. He fell to the ground coughing and rubbing his throat, his heart racing. Gods, she was so _fast_. He looked up, and found she was seated back on the moss where they had been moments before, regarding him impassively.

“So what did you do, anyway, Seimei, to drive this beautiful and charming young man away?” she asked, pulling a lock of her hair forward and beginning to braid it. He sat down at the base of the tree, still rubbing his throat.

“It's... a long story,” he croaked. She gestured expansively at the sky.

“It seems we have the time.”

And so he told her.

 


	11. Persistence

"So you're telling me this boy tried to save your life and you turned around and told him you never wanted to see him again?" Kuzunoha asked when he'd finished. At her insistence, he'd moved to sit close to her again. Their knees were very nearly touching.

"He risked his life foolishly! I couldn't bear the thought of seeing him die again!" Even now the thought of Hiromasa's wounds made him shudder. Kuzunoha raised her eyebrows.

"Again? Has this supposed mortal died before?" she asked. 

"Well... yes. During the battle with Doson, he was shot. The arrow hit his heart."

"That is generally fatal," she said wryly, and Seimei squirmed.

"I... I performed the Rite of Taizanfukun," he said softly. Kuzunoha's eyes became saucers.

"You _what_!? Seimei, what were you thinking? That rite is incredibly dangerous!"

"I know. I had to."

"Has this boy made you take leave of your senses entirely? And dare I ask who exactly you convinced to give up their life for the Rite?"

"She was an old friend of mine-"

"Whom you willingly sacrificed for your boy love," said Kuzunoha, her tone astonished.

"She volunteered!"

"Ah, another devoted follower of this beautiful boy, paragon of virtue and addler of senses?"

"No! It was nothing like that. She wanted to die, to be with her own love in the afterlife," he said desperately. Gods, it had all made so much sense at the time. Why did it sound so bad when he was trying to explain it to his mother? Kuzunoha favored him with a sympathetic smile.

"Humans are such tragic creatures, “ she mused. “So you performed Taizanfukun, and were obviously successful. Have you considered keeping a small harem of pining ladies to sacrifice each time your lovely boy is injured?" she asked lightly. That incensed him.

"There has never been anyone like Lady Aone, and there never shall be again," he said icily.

"Lady Aone? The Bride of Blood? _She_ was your 'old friend'?" Kuzunoha's eyes were huge again, her lips parted in shock. 

"Y-yes. Why?"

"You performed the Rite of Taizanfukun on _Lady Aone_ to save your boy love?"

"I told you, she volunteered! She wanted to rejoin-"

"Prince Sawara. I know the tale. _Everyone_ knows the tale. Seimei, you are an idiot," Kuzunoha said, bringing one pale delicate hand up to massage her temple.

"What?" Dread began to pool in the pit of his stomach. "Mother?" Kuzunoha let go of her temples and grabbed his chin instead, looking him squarely in the eyes.

"Seimei, Lady Aone consumed mermaid's flesh. She was immortal. She gave her immortal life to that boy," she said slowly, as if speaking to a child. Seimei stared at her.

"You mean-"

" _Yes_ , Seimei. Your boy love is immortal, as if he'd eaten the mermaid flesh himself," she said, exasperated. "Even better, you exposed him to the dangers of the forbidden flesh. He might have ended up a monster!" Seimei stared at her, hardly able to breathe.

"Of course, Lady Aone must have understood what she was doing. She was not a fool, unlike you," Kuzunoha said sharply, letting go of his chin and tapping him sharply in the middle of his forehead for emphasis.

Seimei winced. He was trying to process this and failing miserably. Hiromasa, immortal? Was it possible? His greatest fear, nothing but phantasm? And how could he have not seen it? Perhaps his mother was right, that his love for Hiromasa had robbed him of his senses. Gods, he had thought the gift Aone had given to Hiromasa was beyond imagining, but this, _this_ was...

"I hope you appreciate the gift you and this boy have been granted," said Kuzunoha, as if she could read his thoughts. Perhaps she could.

"Yes, I do," he whispered, and looked up at her earnestly. "I always have, but now..." he trailed off, the momentousness of it leaving him speechless. _Gods, Aone, why didn't you tell me?_

Kuzunoha reached out and touched his cheek. "She knew what she was doing, and she knew the risks, even if you did not. She only gave you what she sought herself - eternity with the one you love."

"She told me we were destined to be together," he said, feeling her loss anew, although he knew for a fact she had chosen her fate, and went to it gladly. Kuzunoha flicked his cheek sharply with her forefinger.

"Then you had best settle things between the two of you and honor Lady Aone's gift and her memory," she said, smiling again. He nodded. 

"I will."

"Well," she said, standing fluidly and gesturing for him to follow her. "It will be dawn soon enough. Let's see about those amulets, so you can run off to win your handsome boy back."

Seimei stood and followed her, feeling as though he was in a dream. 

"He has a name, you know," he said absently as they walked from the clearing together. Within a few hundred yards the temperature dropped and before long frost was nipping at them. Seimei could see snow ahead on the path, stark white against the bare trees.

"Tell it to me when you introduce us," said Kuzunoha, not bothering to look back at him. "Names are powerful things, and should not be shared lightly."

And with that she _changed_ in a swirl of white robes and fox tails, and trotted off down the path. He followed suit and took off after her, the two of them leaving two trails of paw prints in the snow.  
  



	12. Trepidation

Seimei touched the pocket of his robe for what had to be the hundredth time, feeling the outline of the box there. It was small and flat, and inside were a pair of betrothal amulets. They were beautiful, just as his mother had promised. The two were identical, except that his was a bit smaller to reflect his slighter build. They were simple, suitable for two men, but intricate when one took the time to examine the details.

He took a deep breath and willed himself to be calm as he walked through the Imperial palace grounds. Now that the moment was drawing near, he found he was incredibly nervous. When he had been with his mother, the thought of Lady Aone's belief that they were destined to be together and his mother's unflappable confidence had made him sure of Hiromasa's answer. Now though, it was all too easy to picture the hurt and anger in the younger man's eyes when they had fought. Hiromasa was well within his rights to be angry with him. Nevermind the shock of learning he was immortal.

The enthusiastic giggling of women drew his attention, and as he rounded a corner he nearly ran into a group of them making their way from their chambers to their early morning meal. When they saw him they raised their fans and tittered. He bowed respectfully.

"Respected ladies, do you know where I might find Lord Hiromasa this morning? I have some important news that must reach his ears immediately," he said, putting all his onmyouji authority into his voice.

Lady Fuuko stepped forward, smiling behind her fan. She was an older woman, well-educated and well spoken. Seimei had always been cautious around her, as she had proven to be wickedly clever on more than one occasion.

"Hiromasa-sama is in his rooms. I hear he is contemplating offers of marriage, much to his mother's delight," she said, her eyes searching his face.

He only just managed to keep the horror and dismay from reaching his expression, though he was pretty sure his breath hitched a little. Lady Fuuko raised a knowing eyebrow and he mentally cursed himself even as he sketched a cursory appreciative bow.

"Thank you, my lady. I'll be sure not to take up too much of his time. I'm sure he has many tempting offers," he said, feeling sick. Gods, Hiromasa had been dodging marriage offers for years, and now, because of their fight no doubt, he had finally capitulated to his mother's endless nagging. Well, Lord Hiromasa was about to have one more offer to consider. Seimei could only imagine what the court ladies would have to say about _that_ if they knew.

He reached the buildings which housed Hiromasa's rooms and stood outside the door, gathering his courage. Well, it wouldn't do to be seen out here fretting. His heart pounding, he knocked on the door.

"Come in."

He slid the door open, and found Hiromasa standing and staring out across the inner courtyard. He turned around, and when he saw Seimei his jaw clenched.

"What do you want?" The fury in the younger man's voice shocked him. He quickly stepped inside and slid the door closed behind him.

"Hiromasa-"

"No. Get out, Seimei," the younger man said coldly, and advanced on Seimei, his dark eyes blazing. Seimei took a step back and came up against the door. He had never seen Hiromasa angry before. It was disconcerting.

"Hiromasa, I know how angry you must be-"

"Then you shouldn't have come. You are the one who told me to go away," he said, stopping an arm's length away from Seimei. His entire body was tense, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, I-"

”You're _sorry_? Seimei, you threw away our friendship and..." the younger man stopped, licked his lips, "And _everything_ because I made one mistake. I thought..." he broke off and looked away.

"Hiromasa-" The younger man looked up sharply, and Seimei saw tears brimming in his eyes. 

"I thought that what we had... I thought you were happy. I thought it was important to you," he said. "It was important to me," he finished quietly, his voice breaking.

Seimei wanted to take Hiromasa in his arms and tell him what a fool he had been and how sorry he was and that the whole thing had been a huge stupid mistake, but he resisted. There was the matter of immortality first. Hiromasa deserved to know everything before he made any decisions.

"Hiromasa, I came here today because I have something very important to tell you," he said. The younger man blinked and Seimei saw his jaw tighten again. 

“Seimei-”

Seimei held up his hand to stop him speaking.

"A few days ago I sought out my mother concerning a very important matter," he said quickly, and Hiromasa's eyes widened fractionally.

"Your mother? You've never mentioned..." Hiromasa's eyes went round. "You mean Kuzunoha-sama, don't you?" Seimei hesitated a moment, then nodded.

"Then you really are a kitsune," Hiromasa said, not able to keep the wonder from his voice.

"Half, yes. My father was human," Seimei said. "But what I must tell you is not about me or my family, such that it is, but about you." Hiromasa was still tense, Seimei could see it in his face and the way he stood, but his anger was under control, tempered at least for now by curiosity. He forged ahead.

"When I was speaking to my mother, she revealed something to me that I should perhaps have known, but never realized. When Doson shot you, I performed the Rite of Taizanfukun to restore your life," he said. Hiromasa nodded tersely, encouraging him to go on.

"Lady Aone gave you her life, so that you could be saved and she could join Prince Sawara. What I did not realize, but I believe she did, is that the life she gave you was immortal. Because of that, you are now immortal, just as she was," he finished, watching Hiromasa's expression. 

The younger man said nothing for a very long time.

"That is why I healed from the one's bite, instead of dying," he said finally. Seimei nodded.

"And so, like Lady Aone, I will not age or die?" he asked. Seimei nodded again. Hiromasa was silent again for a long time. Finally, he nodded decisively, and when he looked at Seimei again the cold fury had returned. 

"Thank you for telling me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to attend to," he said, and started to turn away. Without thinking, Seimei reached out and touched his arm. Hiromasa flinched away, and when he looked up Seimei could tell he was close to tears again.

"Don't! Seimei, please leave," he said, his voice breaking.

"Hiromasa..."

"Seimei, what do you want me to say? I know you think I'm a fool, and you're probably right. But I have to deal with this my own way. You made it very clear where we stand and I will respect that," he said. He was shaking visibly. "I don't expect you to help me."

Seimei winced. Gods, he had hurt Hiromasa so badly. He took a deep breath and reached into his robes. _Here goes nothing..._

"Hiromasa, the matter about which I originally went to see my mother," he said, pulling out the small box that held the amulets, "was to ask her for these." He held the box, lacquered, pure white, and inlaid with green amber stones in the shape of leaves, out to Hiromasa, who eyed it warily.

"What is it?"

"It's for you," he said, and reached out to take Hiromasa's hand. The younger man resisted initially, but Seimei was firm but gentle with his touch as he took the younger man's hand and laid the box into it, folding his fingers gently around it. Hiromasa looked at it and then back at Seimei.

"What do I do with it?" he asked, eyeing the box as if it might contain a wild animal. Seimei almost smiled, but Hiromasa's trembling hands and guarded eyes stopped him.

Instead he said gently, "Open it."

Hiromasa carefully undid the clasp on the box, opened it, and stared at the amulets artfully arranged inside. They were tied together with a piece of red silk. Hiromasa frowned as he looked at them.

"What are they?" he asked, looking up at Seimei. Heart pounding, Seimei took a very deep breath.

"They are kitsune betrothal amulets," he said. Hiromasa stared at him, seeming not to comprehend. "I understand you are considering offers of marriage. I hope that you will consider mine," he said quietly.

Hiromasa stared at him for a very long time, utterly silent, hardly seeming to breathe. Seimei looked down at his feet, suddenly unable to meet Hiromasa's eyes.

“I understand you will need time to consider,” he said, and turned to open the door.

“Seimei.” The younger man's voice broke, and when Seimei looked up at him tears were running down his face.

“Why? Why are you doing this?” Hiromasa seemed close to hysteria now. Seimei was taken aback. 

The answer was on his lips before he'd even properly formed it in his mind.

“Because I love you. I always have, from the moment we first met,” he said. Hiromasa sucked in a breath and his shaking got worse.

“And now that I'm immortal, it's fine, right?” he asked, struggling to maintain control. “It doesn't matter how stupid I am or-”

“No! Hiromasa, I swear to you, I went to my mother for her blessing and to ask for those amulets before I knew anything about that. She told me about you being immortal while I was explaining about you... about us,” he said, stepping closer to Hiromasa and reaching out to touch his cheek. Hiromasa drew back from him as if his touch would burn. “Hiromasa, I am so sorry. I've been a fool and a coward.”

Hiromasa stared at him, still trembling. Then he looked down at the amulets in his hand. He stood there for a very long time, his breath ragged. After a long while, he looked up at Seimei and swallowed. 

“Tell me what this means,” he said. His voice was steadier now. Seimei tilted his head in a wordless question. “I need to know what this means before I can answer you.”

“It's... well, it's like a human marriage,” he said, not understanding what Hiromasa was getting at.

“We're both men. There will be no children. No family alliances,” he said.

“No, my mother's people marry only for love, and they mate for life,” said Seimei, and Hiromasa looked stunned. Seimei realized how overwhelming this all had to be for him. “I know this is a lot to consider. I don't want to rush you. When you've made your decision, you know where to find me,” he said.

He took a step back towards the door again, but Hiromasa stepped forward suddenly, holding the box with the amulets out to him. For one terrifying moment Seimei thought Hiromasa was refusing him, but then the younger man spoke.

“Yes. Yes, Seimei. I will marry you,” he said, holding the amulets out to him. He was shaking so badly the amulets were rattling gently in the box.

Seimei reached out to take them from him, suddenly feeling like he was moving through water. He picked up the amulets themselves and slipped the box back into a pocket in his robes. He untied the amber ribbon holding them together and handed Hiromasa the smaller one – his. Hiromasa took it limply.

He undid the clasp on Hiromasa's and stepped forward until he was inches from the younger man. 

He reached up and slipped the amulet around Hiromasa's neck and fastened the clasp. 

Hiromasa looked at the amulet in his hand.

“You... this is truly what you want, Seimei?” he asked, and Seimei's heart ached at the pain and doubt written across the younger man's face. He took Hiromasa's face in both his hands.

“Yes,” he said, and kissed him gently on the lips. When he pulled back, Hiromasa was crying, silent sobs shaking his body. “Hiro?”

“You never... I always thought...” he said, and his knees buckled. Seimei caught him and held him until he found his balance again. Seimei put his hands on his shoulders to steady him, and then took his face in his hands again.

“Hiro, I'm so sorry. I've made you suffer so much fear and doubt all because I was afraid of losing you,” he said, and pulled Hiromasa closer to him until their faces were inches apart. The younger man was still shaking with sobs.

“But I promise you, from the moment we met you have been my first thought and my last in everything. For two years I couldn't sleep for pining for you. And what we have had since you came to me in the fall... gods, Hiro. You have robbed me of my sanity. I am broken, a shell until you come to me again, and while you are with me I am whole but I am a silly, besotted creature, capable of nothing but melting into your arms and obeying your every whim,” he said, and kissed Hiromasa again, harder this time.

The younger man was rigid at first, still shuddering from crying, but within moments he relaxed and opened his mouth to Seimei's tongue. He tasted of salt and the bitter taste of grief. Seimei kissed it all away, first from his mouth, but then from his cheeks and finally, gently, from his eyes. When he was finished he placed one more kiss on the tip of Hiromasa's nose and then pulled away to look at him. Hiromasa was breathing hard and his eyes were red, but he had stopped crying. Seimei dropped his hands to rest on Hiromasa's shoulders. 

“Are you going to put that on me or not?” Seimei asked, indicating the amulet with a tilt of his head and a small smile. Hiromasa looked at it, studying the details in the metalwork and stone settings, then went to work on the clasp. He got it undone and slipped the amulet around Seimei's neck. It took him a while but he got it fastened again. When he was done he looked at Seimei questioningly.

"What must we do now?" he asked hoarsely. Seimei found he didn't actually know.

"I'll let my mother know you said yes, and she'll tell me," he said, smiling up at Hiromasa.

"You mean you don't know?" Hiromasa asked incredulously, and Seimei smirked. 

"I don't often have much to do with weddings, kitsune or otherwise," he said, and reached up to touch Hiromasa's cheek affectionately. Hiromasa leaned into his touch, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. _Gods, to think I almost lost this_ , Seimei thought.

When Hiromasa opened his eyes, he looked almost himself again.

"Will I meet your mother, Seimei?" he asked. Seimei tried to keep from wincing and failed.

"Certainly. She is eager to meet you," he said. _And what a show that will be_ , he thought. Now that things were mending between he and Hiromasa, he supposed he could see some humor in the situation.

"She is?" Hiromasa looked worried.

"Yes, but don't worry. She'll adore you," he said. _Perhaps a little too much_ , he thought wryly. Hiromasa put his arms around Seimei's waist. 

“What is she like?” Seimei wondered if it was possible to reduce the Lady Kuzunoha to just a few words. He did his best.

“Powerful, beautiful, and very eccentric,” he said.

“More eccentric than you, Seimei?” Hiromasa was grinning broadly now.

“By far. She puts me to shame,” he said truthfully.

Hiromasa raised an eyebrow at that, and Seimei gave him a reproachful look at the implied insult. Hiromasa reached up and gently caressed Seimei's neck.

“I should be going. They're expecting me at breakfast,” he said. Seimei nodded. Hiromasa dropped his hand from Seimei's neck and fidgeted. “May I... I mean... would it be all right if I came over tonight?” he asked. Seimei smiled his foxiest smile.

“For sake?” he asked impishly. Hiromasa looked up and smiled nervously.

“Yes.”

“Of course,” he said. It stung a little that Hiromasa had been afraid to ask him, so he added, “You are always welcome.”

Hiromasa smiled his usual broad smile at that.

“I'll see you this evening, then,” he said. Seimei inclined his head and turned to go. Hiromasa caught him around the waist with one hand and grabbed his hand with the other, twining their fingers together. He pulled him close and kissed him hard, a promise of what was to come in the evening. When they parted, Hiromasa's lips were wet and red and swollen. Seimei could only imagine how his looked with his paler complexion.

“I love you too, Seimei. I always have, from the moment we first met,” he said, echoing Seimei's earlier words.

Seimei smirked.

“Liar. When first we met you said you didn't like onmyouji and that I looked like a fox,” he said, squeezing Hiromasa's fingers gently to take the sting from his words. Hiromasa looked offended, but squeezed back, a glint of humor in his eyes.

“You can believe whatever you like, Seimei. But one of the few things I know for sure about your abilities is that you can't read my mind,” he said, and returned the smirk.

“Oh? And how do you know that?” asked Seimei, his voice silky. Hiromasa leaned closer.

“Because if you could, you would be blushing right now,” he said, his voice low and husky. Seimei's eyes went round.

“I'll see you this evening, beautiful one,” Hiromasa said, and brought Seimei's fingers to his lips before releasing him entirely and heading out the door. Seimei watched him go, his stomach fluttering and his heart pounding. The thought of Hiromasa's visit that evening made him smile so broadly it almost hurt, and he found he was completely unable to stop smiling until well after he had returned home.

 


	13. Anticipation

When he got home he asked the shikigami for a cup of water, and ignored their surprised looks when he threw his head back and poured it over his face. He took a few deep breaths and managed to calm himself down enough to think. He gathered the shikigami together and ordered a special meal prepared for that night. _If we get around to eating, that is,_ he thought, and felt his cock twitch. Ye gods, how in all the hells was he going to make it all day?

He resolved to sit down and study. He found he would read a few lines of text and then his mind would drift off to Hiromasa's smoldering black eyes or his broad chest and shoulders or his... gods, his perfect ass. Hiromasa called him beautiful constantly, and Seimei supposed he had a exotic handsomeness about him. But Hiromasa... sweet merciful Inari.

He gave up on studying and decided to make charms instead. He'd ruined his sixth piece of rice paper and gotten ink on his hands before he tossed his materials aside in disgust. He buried his face in his hands and massaged his temples.

“Are you all right, kogitsune?” asked his mother, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He fell backwards in his pile of scrolls and rice paper and bundles of dried leaves and flowers.

Kuzunoha was sitting a few feet away, grinning widely enough to reveal a wicked looking set of canines. She offered a hand to help him up, but he waved it away as he scrambled upright again, breathing hard.

“You looked flushed,” she said, and he glared at her.

“Hello, Mother,” he said, then added, “I suppose I needn't ask how you got by the holy barriers.” Kuzunoha's grin widened, if that was possible, and Seimei suddenly realized how mice must feel when a cat is toying with them.

“I take it you were successful,” she said, indicating his amulet. He touched it, fingers brushing over the warm metal and stones.

“Yes, he has agreed to marry me,” he said, and couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his face. His mother smiled back, and this time she left the fangs out of it.

“You are truly besotted, my boy,” she said, and he shrugged. There was no point in denying it.

“When will I meet him?” she asked.

“Hm? Oh... tomorrow I suppose,” he said, glancing away.

“Why not tonight?” she asked, and he thought he detected amusement in her voice. He stared at her without saying anything. She gestured expansively at the room. “I could even stay and help you with your work since you're not feeling well.”

“I'm fine,” he said through gritted teeth. His mother leaned forward and touched the back of her fingers to his forehead.

“You feel quite warm,” she said. “I could make you an herbal tea.” She was smiling again, this time the variety with extra teeth.

“Mother...”

“Despite my reputation I'm actually quite good at nurturing,” she said.

“He is coming over tonight, and we have plans,” he finally said, exasperated. She winked at him.

“I'll wager you do,” she said, licking her lips.

“Mother! By all the gods,” he said, and he felt the blush creep up his cheeks.

“Oh Seimei, how adorable you are. And so prudish. Who would have guessed a child of mine would be burdened by such a fault?” she pondered. His lips tightened.

“I am not prudish, Mother. I just prefer not to discuss that sort of thing with-”

“Your dear old Mother?” she asked, looking hurt.

“With anyone!”

“I believe that is the definition of the word, kitling. Not even with your boy love?” she asked, smiling. Seimei blinked.

“We don't really talk about it much. We just do it,” he said before he could stop himself. His hand flew to his mouth and he squeezed his eyes shut in dismay. Kuzunoha began to laugh hysterically, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Seimei, I truly apologize. Had I know you were this much fun before I would have come round to visit more,” she said between giggles.

“Did you truly come only to torment me?” he asked tartly.

“Tsk, Seimei, such a grouch. No, I came to see how things went, and am pleased to see they went well. I must say I've rarely been so excited for a wedding. You may leave the arrangements to me,” she said. His eyes widened.

“I may?”

“Yes, yes. I would be delighted,” she said. Seimei wasn't sure how to take that.

“I... thank you,” he said. She nodded.

“Now,” she said, standing gracefully, “I shall leave you to wait for your boy love. I'll call again tomorrow. Shall we meet for breakfast?”

“That should be-”

“Actually, no, I think not,” she interrupted. “I shall call in the early afternoon for lunch, in case you find your plans this evening tiring.” He glared at her and she grinned back at him. “Besides, I have never been one to stand in the way of true love, and he may want to have you in the morning as well.” His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open in shock and he started to protest, but then he decided to try a different tactic.

“Yes, I expect he will. And perhaps after lunch, as well, so please don't dawdle,” he said, his cheeks burning at his own temerity. Kuzunoha raised an eyebrow.

“Is he so insatiable, your boy love?” she asked. Seimei looked away, but was mostly past caring at that point.

“He would put some of our own people to shame,” he said honestly.

“Oh, our own people now, is it, Seimei?” she crooned. “Are you a prudish human or a proud fox?”

“I have been struggling with that question for nearly a century. Surely you don't expect me to answer it now, while I'm so preoccupied with love?” he asked her, smiling.

“Lust is more like it, kitling. You reek of it,” she replied, wrinkling her perfect nose. He resisted the temptation to sniff himself.

“Both, I think, Mother. And should I not be, so soon after my betrothal?” he asked instead. She dipped her head to concede the point, then smiled warmly.

“Well, I look forward to meeting this boy. I hope he lives up to all this fuss,” she said, standing with one fluid motion. Seimei looked up at her and smiled.

“Of that I am perfectly confident,” he said. 


End file.
